Bistro perfection

On those days when I want to walk into a kitchen, shake chefs by
the shoulders and throw their food on the floor, I think of Jeremy
Strode. Here's a chef whose cooking is so fine and consistent that
you could set your clock by it. I don't know whether it's by dint
of effort or natural talent, whether it was the years he spent
working for Michel Roux, Roger Vergé and Pierre Koffmann in France
and the UK, or if, in fact, he was bitten by a radioactive spider
in his tender years, developing powers beyond those of ordinary
men, but Strode gets it right. Half his brilliance seems to be
simply not making the mistakes that drag the competition down: he
buys good ingredients in season, he cooks them simply, for the most
part, and well, and he presents them with a very few other things
on the plate, just enough to create interest through contrasts and
harmonies of flavours and textures. Rocket science? Maybe not, but
certainly the rocket leaves are fresh, and every single one has had
its stem neatly manicured before it's been lightly but
comprehensively dressed.

Want to know how a green bean should really be cooked? Look no
further than the side dish here at Strode's new city restaurant, a
bowl full of perfect examples, luminous with chlorophyll, topped
(but not tailed), oiled and taken to that sublime point where they
offer still some resilience but no crunch. If you love calf's liver
but have given up ordering it in restaurants after that overcooked
liver too many, Jeremy Strode's restaurants are your hepatic safe
harbour, a comfort zone where you can be confident the liver will
come to the table with not only that essential pink centre but also
a damned fine side of bacon.

Bistrode, Jeremy Strode's Bourke Street, Surry Hills,
headquarters of the past five years, has been the perfect fit for
this sort of food. The butcher's-shop setting matches the bistro
theme in its cosiness, and echoes London's St John restaurant in
its white-walled minimalism. Now, though, Strode fans have a new,
bigger stage on which to make the most of his work. Bistrode CBD is
a collaboration between the chef and Merivale, the Hemmes family's
ever-expanding conglomeration of hotels and restaurants, which now
includes Ivy, the Establishment, The Beresford and The Slip Inn,
taking in Lotus, Est., Ash Street Cellar, Uccello, Sushi E and soon
Felix bistro and Ms G's on Victoria Street. This seems more a
meeting of minds than a buy-out. Merivale patriarch John Hemmes
views it, in fact, as the happy conclusion of a conversation he
began with Strode 12 years ago, when Strode was still cooking in
Melbourne.

The Hemmes have given Strode free rein to do as he will with the
food and to brand the space formerly occupied by Bistro CBD
strongly with the Bistrode identity. Apart from being longer, the
menus are almost identical to those back at the original
restaurant, right down to the Times New Roman type and the recycled
cardboard sleeves. The floor doesn't have the benefit of sommelier
Clara Davidson's presence (she's still at Bourke Street, where Jane
Strode has taken charge) - but her influence can be seen alongside
that of Merivale group sommelier Franck Moreau in the wine list, a
smart document that retains the Bistrode flavour. Strode's
collection of black-and-white chef portraits by Earl Carter has
moved to King Street with him, and now Michel Roux, Fergus
Henderson, Pierre Koffmann and co smile their benediction from the
walls of a coolly business-casual first-floor room. The tables are
polished timber, the music is Sinatra and Holiday and the suits are
loving it.

Rockpool Bar & Grill might have a lock on what remains of
Sydney's expense-account dollar, but Bistrode CBD has very quickly
become the clubhouse, the meeting place, somewhere you can transact
business quickly and professionally as you loosen the lanyard and
relax. At dinner it's as polished as any strong CBD restaurant, but
at lunch it's on fire. The service is by no means rushed - and your
table is definitely yours for as long as you want it - but by golly
it's fast. Flavoursome, chewy sourdough from Iggy's Bread is on the
table in a heartbeat, followed closely by water and wine. And, if
you're smart, a small plate of deafeningly crunchy pork scratchings
with apple sauce.

Strode, for his part, is giving it his all. This is no mere
consultancy gig. He's in the kitchen, cooking his guts out. Think
"hearts and minds", an entrée constructed around the winning theme
of lamb's brains (breaded and fried crisp outside, Vaseline-creamy
inside) and grilled bits of lamb heart, with witlof and watercress.
Or the festival of pig that is the black sausage, egg and pig's ear
salad. Constructed along similar lines, playing the richness of the
meaty bits against fresh, slightly bitter greens in a pleasantly
acidic dressing, it's the elegant face of offal eating. The slices
of black pudding are more porky and less powdery-bloody than most,
and the fine shreds of crisp fried ear are pure crunchy
delectability, especially played off against the gooey yolk of the
soft-boiled egg.

Strode's love of smoked eel will be no surprise to anyone
familiar with the original Bourke Street. And like the superb
corned wagyu beef with brown bread dumplings and the peerless
shredded confit duck salad (replete with occasional giblets), it
has made the transition downtown with him. The current main-course
configuration sees a strip of eel laid across a rather elegant
bubble 'n' squeak light on cabbage and rich on buttery fingerling
potatoes. Pale-pink bacon, hot and striped from the griddle, plus a
little thatch of watercress makes for a plate where balance is
bang-on and nothing extraneous intrudes. If it's something new
you're after, the curry for two - yes, Jeremy Strode cooking curry
- is for you. It's India meets slow-cooked beef short-ribs, warm
and mild rather than bland and mannered, and with plenty of
gelatinous give. Speaking of gelatinous, the tripe also describes
another departure from Strode's usual Franglais palette, teamed as
it is with black vinegar, chilli and onion.

This more expansive menu also allows room for more in the way of
steak. The challenge is in choosing between the grain-fed flank and
the dry-aged grass-fed rib-eye, which comes with nettle butter. If
the massive beefiness of the flank is any guide, it's a pretty
decent option. The fanned slices of meat share plate with a glossy
red wine sauce that sparkles where most would dull, and a round of
roast bone marrow, paired, as per Fergus Henderson, with a neat
little salad of parsley and capers. And whether you're going down
this route or chasing the whole grilled flounder, there's a
suitably impressive suite of sides along for the ride - good chips,
great roast parsnips or simply a green salad that's beyond
reproach.

Meaty prune and Armagnac ice-cream, served in a stemless wine
glass with a little chestnut madeleine to the side, is the perfect
oh-no-I-couldn't-possibly dessert, but if you're going all out,
there's always the sugar rush of Jane's honey tart with peanut
butter ice-cream (this kitchen doesn't quite yet have Jane Strode's
Lorraine Godsmark-like knack for pastry precision, true), or the
dark chocolate burnt cream, a bar-menu favourite that's not unlike
a brûlée-topped chocolate Yogo.

The whole, ladies and gentlemen, is definitely greater than the
sum of the parts at Bistrode CBD. Here Jeremy Strode has found a
sizeable service and support staff and an all but built-in audience
for his city-smart, country-sweet cooking. In Strode, Bistrode CBD
has found the perfect chef for its room and clientele, and food
that is lifted distinctly beyond the everyday without ever being
tricked-up or pretentious. Here's to the easy charm of getting it
right.